Mail Order Bride
"Headed out early today?" I looked up to find Jack standing at the door of my cubicle as I was trying to get my desk cleaned up. "Uh, huh," I replied sort of mechanically. Jack never seemed to get much done in the afternoon. Our department secretary, Susan, is convinced he has some sort of personality disorder. She came up with some fancy name for it, something like "Focus Disorder" or… "Shit!" I mumbled to myself as I managed to break the corner off of one of the diskettes in my haste to lock it up before I left. Frowning, I inspected the plastic case and decided the thing would probably still work. "It is today, isn't it?" I glanced back to my uninvited guest, expecting the expression on my face to send him packing. He just stood there with that silly know-it-all grin of his that told me he knew a lot more about my private life than I wanted him to know. "Angel," he stated.
"Well, that's almost her name," I said icily. "It's Angela. You know Jack, I'd love to stay and chat, but the plane arrives in just under 20 minutes now, she doesn't speak English very well, and she's gonna be dead tired with about 18 hours of jet-lag."
"Don't let me hold you up, Bill." He strode off unperturbed, having suddenly spotting easier prey down the hall.
I was only 15 minutes late but immediately started to panic thinking I must have the wrong day. The gate area was completely empty -- or almost: A maintenance guy was working on a torn awning above one of those pushcart candy stands. Certainly nobody resembling the well-worn photograph I had of Angela could be seen anywhere.
"Excuse me," I hazarded to the guy on the ladder. He turned so suddenly that I thought he was going to fall off. And he was staring at me as though he had just seen a ghost. "Sorry to bother you," I continued. "You don't remember seeing a young woman wandering around here looking a bit lost, do you?" I offered him the photo but a quick glance was enough.
"Yeah, she was here a bit ago -- probably in the can. You check there yet?" There were heavy beads of perspiration on his face.
I didn't have to. Just then I felt a tap on my back as she found me.
"Bill..?" I turned to find a very tired-looking Angela puzzling over the photo that I had sent her just last month.
You know what they say about first impressions. My first impression of Angela was discovering the most beautiful smiling face I could imagine. Next, realizing she was about a foot shorter than I was -- but I knew that already. Finally, glancing down at her rumpled dress, I remember feeling a swelling in my groin as I discovered she was a lot more buxom than her photos had suggested.
"Welcome to America, Angela." The first kiss was a growing, live thing that spread to envelop both of us. The nearness of her warm body and the earthiness of her travel perspiration made my body react more positively than I expected. I knew I must have been showing a very bright red face to our curious audience of one on the ladder. And I felt her fingers brush against my manhood as her tongue played against mine -- only making me blush more as then I felt her pressing her groin against mine. I began feeling very selfish as I felt her start shaking from her accumulated fatigue.
By the time we arrived at to my condo, she was fast asleep, having succumbed to the unusually warm, sticky August day. I found myself continually glancing over to her sleeping form and smiling, sometimes with tears of joy welling up briefly then disappearing down my own perspiration-drenched face. She didn't look very comfortable leaning against the door the way she was. I couldn't keep my eyes off her.
Something about the change of pitch in the engine caused her to stir as we left the expressway and started down the street leading to my -- our -- place. Her eyes were still glued shut, but I felt her hand on my arm and then my thigh where it remained until I finally stopped before the garage and punched the remote to open the door.
Automatic garage door openers make a very unique noise -- especially if you've never heard one before. Angela awoke with a start and glanced nervously around trying to locate the sound's source. She seemed absolutely delighted as she watched the door rise as if by magic then turned to me and asked, "We home now?"
"Yes," I said as an uncertain smile filled my face as I gazed lovingly into her eyes. "You're home now."
Angela was a real troubadour, but it was clear she desperately in need of sleep. I didn't feel much slighted when she practically passed out on the couch almost as soon as she sat down. Later I would learn that traveling the short distance from her parent's house to the Bangkok airport had added almost four hours to her journey. She managed a simple "I like it here -- everybody very nice and very big. I am sorry to be so tired now. I wanted to love you so much first." She had a wearied, but incredibly sexy expression on her face. "You need some rest now." I helped her get comfortable on the couch -- it turned out to be one of the coolest places in the house on a day like this -- and left her to run some quick errands while she rested.
I opened the door as quietly as possible and peeked in. It didn't turn out to be necessary -- Angela was dead to the world and sleeping peacefully despite the stifling heat. I quietly shut the door and carried the groceries into the kitchen where I was glad for once for that kitchen had a door and that it could be shut -- even if I was always barking my chin on the damn thing in the middle of the night.
As I began to unpack the two bags I realized I had no idea what she liked to eat. Staring at the package of ground hamburger and my habitual box of Cheerios, I wondered if it might not make more sense to go out for the evening. Then I reminded myself forcefully that she would be in no position to want to go anywhere tonight. Besides, everything worth the trouble would be closed by the time she eventually came to, and I couldn't imagine she'd feel very special if we ended up at an all night coffee shop somewhere. "I've been a bachelor too long," I found myself saying.
She was 31. Not her age -- she was had just turned 23. No, she was the 31 st woman I corresponded with over the last two years. I frowned a bit as I thought about the unpleasant experience of trying to sell myself to an unknown woman in another part of the world.
The bitter memory of my first wife came streaming back to remind me why. I had enjoyed being married for the first few years -- someone to talk to and really good sex at night -- she was… That should have been the tip-off, I suppose. Annette later referred to me as "Amusing" in bed but nowhere near as good as the multiple, secret lovers she'd maintained over that five-year period of our marriage. That evening when we finally had it out, I had found her naked to the waist, kneeling over a very well endowed teenager with his penis deeply rooted in her throat. She hadn't even bothered to stop when I walked in. She seemed determined somehow to put on a final show for me as her dumb, young stud squirmed and as I just stood there, horrified, watching her head bobbing up and down listening to both of them moaning, and to my marriage dissolving before my eyes…
I stopped myself, forcibly. "Let this be the one," I pleaded silently.
I had just stumbled on one of those Web pages that suddenly comes alive with someone's idea of background music when I heard stirring behind me and turned to find Angela staring quizzically at my computer. Or perhaps, at the gallery of photos on the wall surrounding it -- most pictures and one drawing I made late one evening -- of her.
"You made my picture," she stated. "Is that a television? I don't know that show." She came closer and smiled warmly at my line drawing of her face. "It's nice." Then her eyes found a picture of one of my favorite models -- a nude that I stupidly forgot was even there, it being so much a part of my workspace. "Is she your sister?" she said innocently.
"Uh, no. Just a girl," I said as I felt myself flushing.
"She's very sexy. I know why you like her looks. She is very big on top, isn't she?" Again, she seemed to show no hint of surprise or embarrassment.
"Yes, very big," I said, feeling a little less uncomfortable then suddenly very happy to have someone there to share my private place. "How do you feel? Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, but I want to be clean now. Would you like to be clean, too?" she said hopefully. "I can clean you. Then maybe you will fill me. I want that very much for a long time now. I am big on top, too. Do you like that?" She unabashedly palmed her breasts and squeezed them to demonstrate for me.
"That is one of the nicest invitations I think I have ever had," I said, feeling more and more comfortable. "I like you to be big on top. And I want to fill you very much, if you want." My English felt right, somehow just then.
She smiled very warmly and moved closer to offer me her hand. Then she escorted it to her left breast and pressed it against the firm flesh. "You see, big. One for each hand." She moved closer, making obvious just what she wanted me to do with my other hand. "I want to taste you with my mouth. Do you like that?"
"How do you mean?" I wasn't quite sure what she was asking me, but I had my metaphorical hopes up.
She motioned toward my belt and smiled. "I practice at good school. You be very pleased. Then you can fill me."
"School?" I knew exactly what she was asking and I was all for it, but I had to know, "You went to a school to…practice?"
"Oh, yes. It very important to satisfy future husband. Help keep him. Besides, it taste good. I like eat people very much. Is that the right word?"
"Yes, I think so." I had to think about that one a bit. "Did your school teach you how to satisfy women, too?" That just slipped out.
"Oh, yes. They are very important to me. Make me very happy. I want you to be happy now, and I want you make me happy, too." How could I turn down an offer like that?
Something about the thought of Angela performing cunninglingus on another women or of that women doing the same for her did not seem threatening to me at all. In fact, it had instantly triggered fantasies of ménage-à-trois encounters… One part of my brain began to mentally tick through the few women I knew who might like that sort of thing…
"Come with me," she said before I got any farther. "First we get clean, then we make each other happy." I watched at she glanced back at my gallery and then smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye. She did seem interested in that woman's photo, after all.
There are nights and then there are nights. This one was gold star, with bells and whip crème on top. Angela wasn't kidding about her school. She managed to keep me up all night with variations on a theme. Ice and coffee? I have a new respect for the world. First a sip of one then down you go, then the other, then… God! Where was she all my life? Stuck on the other side of the world, that's where. I'll never leave the house again at this rate…
She was very patient showing me just how to satisfy her as well. It felt a little like going to school, but we both got what we desperately wanted and needed. And her breasts really are quite large -- that kept my hands out of my pockets.
But of course, I did have to leave the house on Monday morning -- after a physically draining weekend with my newfound lover and friend. Even with her somewhat halting English, we shared a lot more than each other's bodies and had the most wonderful few days. She holds an enormous of energy but she needed a break from me, too, and a lot of sleep. Work was a lot better that day -- there seemed to be a cloud lifting from my life just now.
By Wednesday, my co-workers seemed to be noticing a change in me. Susan even said something. Then something about the way she was dressed that day, I don't know, suggested that Angela and her might, well… like each other a lot. Susan is rather large on top, too -- Angela seems to like that. And Susan is also rather tall -- I'd like that, myself. What am you thinking, you devil?
That evening when I got back to the apartment, Angela seemed just a little odd somehow. She apparently had been watching TV much of the day and yet… something seemed just seemed odd. That's when I noticed the woman's shoe poking out from under the edge of the couch -- a white woman's high-heal shoe at least three sizes bigger than anything Angela could possibly wear.
"I bet you had a visitor today, didn't you?" I had to ask finally.
"Yes, this morning. There was a nice woman at the door. She was very pretty and big. She was selling something but I not buy any. She was very good."
No mention of the shoe. I just had to ask. "Did you make her happy?"
"Yes, she liked me very much. I liked her very much." Nothing else.
"She left one of her shoes on the floor," I offered, motioning with my head towards the edge of the couch.
"Yes, it fell off. I am very sorry, I should have not left it there."
All this fascinated me. Apparently, Angela had talked a sales woman into having sex with her, something interrupted them, and the woman had left hurriedly, leaving one of her shoes behind. Not an everyday occurrence, but… I had to know.
"Was she big on top?" I asked matter-of-factly.
Angela looked over at me and smiled pleasantly, nodding her head. Then volunteered, "She was very good and very big like you say. I like her very much. Maybe I will have another visitor tomorrow."
"I hope so, too." Then thinking back to my earlier train of thought, "One of my friends at work would like to come to dinner one day this week. Would you like to meet her? She is a very nice woman."
"I like America very much. Americans are all so big. Is she big, too?"
"Angela: here is a good new word for you. When a woman is large up here," I motioned to her breasts, "we often call that woman buxom. Susan is very buxom."
"That is a good word, buxom. I am buxom, am I not?" she asked, not completely innocently.
"Yes, you are. Would you like to sit over here with me? Then I can check if you are still buxom."
She giggled as she got up, then walked casually over and sat on my lap. In no time I reported, "I would say you are very buxom tonight." In fact, she seemed almost as if she was a little heavier than when she arrived -- hard to believe after all our physical therapy all weekend -- but the proof was right there, in my hand. I leaned down and slowly drew my tongue over her naked flesh and as I did, began to caress her body. Strange, she did seem to be putting on weight.
"Are you happy with me, Angela?" I asked playfully.
"You are very sexy man and I like you very much. You are good to me. I want to be bigger for you so you can play with me more. You like my buxom."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Well, each of these," I hefted her flesh, "each of these is a breast. When you have large breasts, then you are buxom."
"Then, nice woman today have very large breasts. I liked her a lot. I eat her."
The innocently presented mental image was very exciting somehow. I licked her other breast playfully and remarked, "I bet you did."
"But I forget her shoe," she continued. "I am very sorry. When Susan come I will eat her and her shoes. Her big breasts will make me very happy and I will get bigger for you. Her legs good, too. Lady today have very big legs and very big sitting. I think that why I eat her before asking please. She not very happy I eat her. But she was very good to me. Now I want eat Susan, but I ask please first."
You know when you hear something and are not quite sure if you are dreaming or not. This conversation suddenly felt like that. Things just didn't jive here -- either Angela was absolutely off in another world tonight, or maybe her visitor had showed up with some drugs or something. They use a lot of drugs in Thailand, don't they?
Angela had been slowly stroking my thigh every since she sat down. Now, something was beginning to come between us that demanded attention. The sight of her beautiful naked breasts dancing before my face and the sure knowledge that she was literally watering at the mouth to satisfy me was suddenly more that I could contain. I'll worry about Angela's drug use later.
Later, after we spent the next few hours in the other room, I got up to tinkle -- love that word -- takes a real man to say that and not be embarrassed -- anyway, I happened to glance down and noticed that the woman's shoe was gone. Suddenly, I wondered if it was me that was stoned. Had to check: lifting the edge of the upholstery I looked underneath. Nope, no shoe. For that matter, there wasn't any buxom woman either. But there was something that looked remarkably like a wallet and it wasn't mine -- this one had money in it.
"Bill…" I heard from the other room. She was still awake. She had more sexual energy than any woman I'd ever met. It was becoming very addictive.
"Just a minute, I'll be right back." I made my way quickly to the bathroom and stuffed the wallet up on top of the medicine cabinet. "It'll keep," I said with my mind on more pressing matters -- ah, that felt good.
The next day, I had pretty much forgotten all the oddities of the evening. The afterglow of Angela's "school" was still very much with me. Jack was being particularly bothersome much of the afternoon -- as usual -- but for some reason it didn't seem to bother me as much today. That had the strange effect and unexpected effect of stopping Jack cold -- he was caught completely off-guard when I seemed actually willing to talk with him. After a few minutes, he seemed to panic and spent the rest of the day somewhere other than at the door of my cubical.
But Susan did stop by and confirmed our invitation for dinner. She seemed very pleased by our offer. Even though I had worked with her for over two years now, and I realized I really didn't know much about her at all. The sobriety of the day caused me to question whether inviting her over was such a good thing after all. I had a sudden impulse to announce we had some unexpected event turn up and call the whole thing off, but that was as far as it got. Susan seemed literally beaming at the thought of meeting my strange new Angela, and after all, who could tell about Angela? I made a mental note to start checking out language schools for her. While I personally found it endearing to have her communicating as she does, it was important that she learn to get along properly on her own. She could get in a lot of trouble, naïve as she is. I tried to imagine what sort of a job Angela could hold and could but come up with one -- and that one already had a dedicated customer. Nope, a language school it would be.
The agreement was that Susan would follow me in her car to our place. You know -- I hardly ever see Susan except when she is seated behind her desk. Walking out to the parking lot with her I was struck by how tall she really was. She was very well dressed today -- heels, dark nylons and, sometime just before I last saw her, she had changed into a much more formal dress that was, let us say, very revealing and made her, well, bounce as she walked. I think she caught my downward glance, but there was no reaction on her part. If events followed my fantasies, Angela might find Susan tempting. This evening just might work out -- trois could be a lot more entertaining than deux, after all. I would mènage, somehow.
Since Angela had to date shown no interest in preparing meals, I had started a roast before I left this morning. As we walked toward the door, the aroma drifted from an open window -- it smelled good already. Angela must have heard us drive up as she opened the door just before we arrived. She was wearing a dress I hadn't seen before. It made her look even lovelier to me than usual. It wasn't wasted on Susan either -- the electricity between the two women felt palpable.
Angela's fetching smile was already working its magic on Susan. This was the first time I'd seen Angela use French cheek kissing -- but she was from a former French colony, wasn't she? She glanced over Susan's shoulder and smiled warmly at me. She nonchalantly patted Susan's rump as she ushered her into our living room, and then I saw that Susan's hand hesitate, then reach around Angela and give her a hug, pulling them chest to chest, or should I say head to chest. The evening was getting off to a wonderful start.
But by the time I got inside the door, Angela was already way ahead of me. The two of them were locked in a very passionate embrace, and, as I watched with just a little bit of envy, Angela hands danced impatiently over Susan's body, squeezing here, patting there. And Susan was responding as if they were old friends.
Susan backed away finally, a bit flushed and turned to me briefly. Then she walked deliberately over and planted a huge, sloppy kiss on my lips. My God! Forget the roast, I wanted to watch Angela eat Susan.
Susan finally released me and I turned back to Angela. "Angela, this is my friend Susan. Susan, this is Angela." I realized suddenly that Angela was doing something, something that I didn't quite comprehend. Susan would never have acted like this -- not in a million years, I thought. Yet here she was practically ready to strip naked and let us have our way with her. What was Angela doing? I wasn't complaining, mind you. Susan was as interesting at that moment to me as any woman on Earth could be, and obviously Angela felt the same way.
Angela then said something that threw us all for a loop. "Would you like me to make love to you now? I am very good and you will enjoy it very much." Just like that. Then she turned to me and added, "Would you like to have her when I am finished? I will help you if you like. She is very big, isn't she? She will be very good for you, you'll see. I like big her breasts. She is buxom."
Susan seemed hypnotized -- I don't recall ever seeing her -- or anyone else for that matter -- respond in such a matter-of-fact way. She had a big smile on her face, but that seemed somehow -- the word "painted" comes to mind. She didn't seem at all surprised or even concerned that Angela was now slowly and deliberately undressing her before one of her co-workers. I watched in fascination as Angela began removing Susan's shoes and then very carefully set them aside like sacred things. I decided I wanted to join in but Angela gave me a funny look that suggested that I should just watch, which is what I did. Hum, nylons with real garters and beautiful white thighs.
Susan wasn't completely idle, either. She unexpectedly reached over to me and grabbed my by my belt, pulling me closer to her. Then she looked up at me and slowly licked her lips. "You're not going to get left out," she said in an unexpectedly sultry voice as she began fumbling my zipper. Meanwhile, Angela was gently but firmly working Susan out of all her clothing, fascinated when she got to the brassiere to discover it could be "sprung" open from the front. Rather dramatically, too -- the words "Industrial Strength" came to mind.
I shuddered suddenly as Susan's fingers closed around my penis, but not before looking up at me with a serious looking expression on her face and saying, "Don't look away. I want to watch your expression when I swallow this…" After saying that, she had to chase him a little before sealing her mouth over the crown. But her eyes never left mine as she began to lather her saliva over me until she developed a musical rhythm.
Angela meanwhile was ravenously caressing Susan's chest and smothering her face between two mountainous breasts either one of which was larger than Angela's entire head, clearly fascinated by their size. I don't think I had ever seen her this animated, even with me -- I felt a bit jealous watching her play.
I was wondering why I never thought to make a play for Susan just then. As it turned out, I had, but indirectly. This was a lot better -- two for one. Susan was doing an admirable job keeping me occupied. I happened to notice that Susan's free hand was currently between her legs where Angela seemed to be directing traffic with her own hand.
It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to keep my eyes open, what with all that was happening below, and to follow the absorbing drama Angela was acting out for us both. I glimpsed her licking and sucking several of Susan's sticky fingers into her mouth just as my own moment arrived and I exploded forcefully inside Susan's warm mouth. Then I had to pull away -- it was becoming to sensitive and I wanted to save something for later…
Susan's hand let go of my ass as I stood shaking, my eyes closed trying to garnish the last of my pleasure. I could hear Angela making increasingly loud slurping sounds -- it sounded like she has finally settled down for the feast between Susan's thighs…
"What the…" I stood aghast as I looked a bit in horror at the site before me. Angela was indeed kneeling down over Susan with her tongue very busily exploring Susan's body. But that wasn't what shocked me. She seemed to have grown! Her entire body seemed to be expanding proportionally right before my very eyes!
The thing that struck me as incredible just then was that Susan didn't seem at all perturbed by the development. In fact, she looked to be absolutely in seventh heaven. There was a glassy regard in her eyes and she was guiding Angela's now enormous head and even more enormous, wet tongue working between her legs.
Whatever was happening to Angela had already caused her to expand by at least double her size. Her body now almost filled that part of the living room. She had never done that before, I was sure. I suddenly heard something fall and looked over to see one of her feet had knocked over a chair.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I vowed to move closer and prove to myself that this could really be happening. Then Angela raised her head up and glanced over at me -- and at the pained look on my face.
"Bill…" Her voice was now at least an octave lower. She didn't seem to know how to say what she wanted to say, but smiled nervously at me and went on, "You like me big? You never see me big before. I want you like me now."
"How… do you do that?" was the only thing I could manage. This was really weird, but I was no longer so much worried as somewhat concerned for her and Susan's safety. Glancing at Susan, she now looked uneasy about the recent developments.
I could see tears welling up in Angela's eyes as she said, "You not like me like this, do you? I just want to make you happy. Susan very good and very big. She touch my strange. Make me feel hungry for her. I like her big buxom. She very nice for me. You bring her home for dinner." Her hand was caressing Susan's buttock. Something then, I don't know what, was causing Susan to now relax and act as though she were completely at ease with all this. She no longer seemed to be paying any attention to our strange conversation, for example.
"What were you thinking of doing with Susan, Angela?" Something told me I already knew. There had been that white shoe…
She sounded sort of like a little girl now caught with her hand in an enormous cookie jar as she said, "I want eat her. She fill me up, make me big so I can love you good and make you happy. Give me big buxom."
One side of me was absolutely and completely horrified by what I was listening to, yet the other side, that tiny corner of my mind that loves watching how a horror flick does that same thing to me… "Yes, I did invite her to dinner. She does look, ah… big, doesn't she? If you let me watch…" I realized that Godzilla had really turned me on, too.
That really sexy smile suddenly appeared on Angela's face and her eyes lit up with a sparkle. "OK," was all she said.
Then I heard what must have been her stomach growing as she turned back to Susan.
I was a bit distracted at work the next day -- to say the least. Visions of last evening kept interfering with my train of thought. I had already, for instance, managed to erase several hours of typing I had been laboring over most of the afternoon. Luckily, one of the Techies wandered by and I snagged him -- who would have guessed that my computer was clever enough to keep a backup like that? Not ten minutes later I managed to dump my coffee all over the resulting printout and had to redo that, too.
"Angela keeping you up all night?" That could only be Jack. Not now, I thought to myself. How does he do it? I decided to pretend I hadn't heard him, but that just encouraged him. "When you gonna bring her in and introduce her 'round?" Maybe it was that mid-western drawl that bothered everyone about him. I knew he wasn't stupid, just tactless -- only he didn't know it this time. I mustered a smile and looked back at him. "She's a bit nervous around strangers. Her English is still kinda rough." That even sounded lame to me.
"Ah, come on, quite hiding her away like an ogre. She's never going to learn to talk good if you don't get her out more. It'll do your little gal good, you'll see." Easy for him to say, I thought to myself.
"Let me talk with her about it." That seemed to satisfy him since, before I could turn back to him, he had wandered off again.
She was waiting at the door when I drove up. She looked tired, but was smiling that amazing smile of hers. "Bill, you are very cute," I heard her say as I came the walk, "You are my favorite love."
I leaned forward and gave her a big kiss. "I love you, Angela, more that you can ever imagine." As I shut the door, I noticed that she had tried to straighten up the living room as best she could. There was still that chair to deal with someday, but I didn't care -- in fact, I never really liked that chair much anyway.
"I not eat all today," she volunteered suddenly. I didn't know yet whether that was good or bad.
"Are you hungry?" I asked trying to be as casual as possible about any possible response.
"No, not hungry. I want you be happy. You want we go somewhere and find food. You want?" she had the most adorable expression on her face. I decided there was nothing about her I couldn't accept. I suspected that there was nothing at all she wouldn't do for me -- or me for her for that matter. We had made a good couple so far.
"There's a nice Italian restaurant not far from here. Would you like to try that?" That sounded safe enough.
"Yes, I like that. Maybe I try spaghetti. I want to cook you, too. I don't know how to do it." She said agreeably.
There were several possible ways to read that, I noted, all of which pointed to my next topic of conversation, "I think I found something you will like very much. There's a nice school not too far from here can help you to learn English. I think they can make you better and more pleased with yourself."
"You want to send me to school again?" she asked quizzically.
"This place is a nice school for people, like you. When new people come to America, many of them want to learn English better. Your English is very pretty to hear, but I think you will feel better if you know more." I was hoping that I wasn't making her feel illiterate.
"You know, that is good idea to me," she replied, sounding like I had come up with a cure for Cancer. "You are very good to me! Can I start now?"
Then out of the blue, she said, "I never want to go back to Thailand." That took me be surprise. "I want to stay here with you."
"Don't you want to see any of your family?" I asked, trying to understand.
"No. They very mean to me." She wouldn't say any more after that and I didn't bring up the topic again.
After we were seated in a private table well away from the rest of the clients, I had a question to ask that, the answer of which might solve two problems at once. I was watching Angela playing with her noodles a bit like a child, sucking them in one or two at a time. She was getting the sauce all over her face and smiling over at me all the while. I caught her briefly staring over at our waitress and then pick up one of her meatballs and slowly sucked it into her mouth. That lit me up a bit. Sneaking a peak over my shoulder, I had to agree that the waitress did look rather pretty. But she definitely had all her assets around her hips, so to speak. Angela glanced back over at me and smiled that "I love America" smile again, and I took the opportunity to ask her my question.
Lowering my voice so as to not possibly be overheard, I asked her, "Do you like to have men, like you had Susan, too?"
Her mouth just then was full, so she just shook her head yes. Then staring off again toward the front of the restaurant, she finally said, "Men different. They good but they fill me different. Sometimes need two. One not enough." She sucked another meatball into her mouth. "Two."
Then something seemed to click and she looked at me and said, "Do you want man? I not want to share you with man."
"No, actually I was thinking of a particular man that I'd like to introduce you to. He is not very handsome, but he is fairly muscular. I bet you'd only need one like him. I could invite him over one night if you like. He's been begging me all week to meet you." Yes, he had, hadn't he?
"OK." She said, but her eyes were still fixed on our waitress. "Do you like her? I think she looks like good friend." Angela had already decided. "She have really pretty bottom. This good place to find new friends." Thank God I hadn't taken her to the Food Faire at the mall.
Shortly, she got up then and looked around seeming a little lost. "Are you looking for the woman's room?" I guessed. That, it turned out, was what she wanted. As she walked away, I watched her pretty, petite form undulating pleasantly with a sort of spring to her step, and the image of the previous evening started glowed in neon lights in my head.
I had never witnessed anything quite like it. I was still ambiguous but felt I was handling last night as well as I could. My Angela -- what sort of future could I have with her, really. I mean, I can't just go around inviting friends over for her to "like" like she does. A little too personal, if you get my drift. I really love her -- which is at the heart of the problem. She is the sweetest, most gentle person I've ever met in my entire life and she makes it all too clear that she adores me. It's just that she has this craving for -- meeting people in a very special way. And it appears she can get whomever she wants… Susan, for example.
I did have to admit I found it one of the most erotic scenarios I had ever personally -- in the flesh -- witnessed. Angela even got me into the act, with Susan herself encouraged me to straddle her doggy style as she lay half inside Angela's gaping mouth. We both felt like willing and able volunteers. When Angela was finally satisfied that I was satisfied, her lips began to close and she just started slowly sucking Susan into her mouth headfirst. Then she spent what seemed like hours plying her tongue over Susan's wriggling, sweating body -- and mine too -- for that matter. Yes, she did concentrate quite a bit on Susan's chest, and then worked her around so she could spend time exploring her backside. It was easy to see in retrospect why Susan was squirming so -- it felt better than just about anything that I, too, had ever experienced so far in my life. Then later I, too, had found myself straddling that huge, warm tongue, holding onto Susan's buttocks as I helped push her further inside.
I guess that is part of what's bothering me right now. Not the sex -- which was great -- and not even Susan ending up deep inside Angela's belly like that. I always liked Susan a lot and that she did turn out to be a really good, if belated, lay, and that Angela had found her -- tasteful -- all that was no longer a problem for me, I felt. No, but there were two things. First, I spent a lot of time watching the lump that was Susan sliding down Angela's throat -- it took quite a lot longer than I was prepared for. But I guess I wasn't at all ready for the sight of Angela's pretty stomach suddenly expanding like that and then taking on a life of its own -- all the while that those deep gurgling sounds were coming from inside. I sensed that Angela didn't really like that part much either, and that although she seemed to enjoy sharing all the rest, that final process clearly bothered her, too.
Angela remained at her room-filling dimensions for about three more hours, and she slept most of that time. I had to forcefully stop wondering what had become of her "meal". I couldn't understand the physics of the thing -- how could she… It was making my head hurt. I did make Angela promise that we not invite someone I knew next time. I felt suddenly better having followed this through in my head. I had decided I liked Angela's other voice, too, and that I was perfectly willing to "help her guests in" like I did, especially if it included another orgasmic ride on her tongue.
Afterwards, when I could finally get her talking about what it felt like, all she could say was that it made her feel really warm and good and that her "strange" stopped. I also asked her if she was the only one in her family like that. "Yes," she had said, "she was the only one, but that she had once met someone else like her when she was very young."
When Angela returned from the bathroom, she had evidently stopped to chat with our waitress because she was certainly glowing. "She very nice. I think she like come for visit someday. Is that OK?" Seemed perfectly fine by me, I thought, trying to not act too pleased.
We spent the rest of the evening rather quietly, all things considered. Just the two of us. I hinted once or twice that I'd like her to grow for me, but she didn't seem to have the power to control herself like that. "No," she had said. "Wait for friends to come, then I make you feel good like before." The night was still good, mind you, she has extraordinary skills there. I decided I probably didn't want to know all the details of just how she had developed them. Then I remembered suddenly what she had said about her family. What a shitty life she must have had back there.
Ah, Friday at last. I took a few hours off so I could take Angela to the language school and get her registered. We met with a counselor that spent about 15 minutes interviewing Angela -- I wandered privately how it went, but both of them returned looking perfectly normal to me. We had the most amazing luck in that Angela's suggested course was starting up that very morning. She seemed perfectly satisfied that I leave her there, so I paid the startup fees and kissed her goodbye, then headed off to work.
When I got to my office, it looked like someone had rifled my desk. Almost everything was out of order. I could even see that some of the cables to my computer looked unplugged. Fuming, I headed down the hall where I bumped into Jack who -- keeper of all the knowledge that he was -- asked me, "They tear up your office, too? Ben says they're doing some kind of change to the network. Everybody is pretty much offline right now. There's a bunch of us thinking of going to see that new weird new movie that opened at the Rio -- wanna come?"
I felt relieved. Thinking back to the one time in my life when my house had been burgled, I was glad that, for once, that I was just looking at nothing but office mismanagement. Joining a group of Jack's friends, however, was altogether another affair. "How many are going?" I tried to explore the unfolding, uh, opportunity.
"Well, so far, its just Alex and me -- and you, if you want." He seemed to want my company very much -- me with two of the social outcasts of the office. Neither of them was remarkably unhandsome, it was just that both of them were hopelessly incompetent in social situations -- especially if there were a woman in the group.
"Tell you what," I said after a little thought. "I gotta pickup Angela in a few hours, but we should have plenty of time for the flick. How 'bout we go in my car and then I can introduce you both to her afterwards. I mentioned something to her last night and she said she'd like to meet you. Alex shouldn't be any problem. Couple of beers, what do you think?"
Somehow I was surprised to not see him run off when I suggested coming over to the house, but he surprised me by saying, "Deal. I'll go get Alex." In retrospect, maybe he should have run off.
Angela looked tired when I finally found her inside the school's snack room. She was puzzling over a worksheet when I came in, but smiled when she looked up to see me. "School hard." She stopped, thought a bit, then said, "The school is hard. The teacher say that verbs are friends. I think he is funny."
As she stood up, I leaned over and kissed her, then helped her gather up her study materials. "You're marvelous," was all I could say, smiling quietly to myself.
We started down the hall out of the building and I leaned over and quietly whispered in her ear, "I brought some friends with me."
She looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression on her face, then a smile started to spread over her face. "More than one?" I swear I saw her lick her lips.
She knew what that meant. "You want to watch? It is different. You like it, too."
Jack and Alex were standing underneath a tree in the parking lot near the car as we walked up. Yet another of those too warm August days. I saw some clouds off in the distance that looked to promise some relieve for tomorrow. They were both sipping on the beer we picked up on the way over and both looking a bit uneasy as we approached. Angela didn't seem at all uncomfortable in the unrelenting heat, but I know I sure was. I would be more than grateful for the air-conditioning. Opening the car door, I watched as the trapped, shimming heat drifted slowly out -- it must have been at least 200 degrees inside -- no wonder they had abandoned ship.
I could hear Angela trying to strike up a conversation with my friends. I caught the word "happy" several times. By the time I got the car cooled down enough to be tolerable, the three of them seemed to be getting along just fine. Somehow, it was no surprise that all three of them sandwiched themselves in the back seat with Angela in the middle. Glancing back into the rearview mirror I could see a pleased look on her face. Both the boys seemed absolutely taken with Angela -- now why didn't that surprise me?
The three of them seemed completely oblivious to my presence. I saw Angela leaned over to each of them in turn and gave them each a pert little kiss. Studying both their faces in the mirror, I decided our guests were probably both about her age -- something I had never thought to ask myself before.
It wasn't far to the house, but it seemed to take forever and my face was covered in perspiration with the sun poring like it was. Everyone seemed to be in slow motion today. Glancing up in the mirror, I saw Angela had loosened her blouse making it almost impossible for her guests to not get an eyeful.
"Why won't these people move?" I cursed to myself under my breath. Then I saw why. There was a stall just ahead. Luckily, I knew the area well enough to detour around the problem and was soon pulling up into our driveway. I started to open the garage door then stopped suddenly. No, not with that other car in there.
Alex was the one that looked to be the most aroused when they stepped out of the car. Jack looked like he might be getting his hopes up a bit, too. And of course, Angela wasn't doing anything to dissuade them.
As we opened the front door, I was relieved to discover that the house had remained fairly cool, but it was still at least 80 degrees inside and the sun wouldn't be setting for a couple of hours yet. No relief for the wicked, today, it seemed.
"Can I get you something to drink? There's still beer, or I can make some ice tea…" I wasn't sure if they heard me or not. They were too busy staring at Angela as she undid the remaining buttons of her blouse. She seemed to be favoring Alex at the moment with the best view. I decided to slip quietly into the kitchen and close the door -- or almost. By the time I had opened myself one of the remaining beers, I could see that Angela's fingers had found their way to Alex's lap. I couldn't help feeling jealous if she was about to do what I suspected she would. The beer did taste good, but it deserved to be a little colder.
I'm still amazed that the two of them didn't find it odd that Angela was now about a head taller than either of them. She had had to hastily shed her remaining clothing to avoid destroying them, but the effect had not been wasted on the guys. They were both standing now and struggling to get out of their trousers. I would have never guessed Alex to be that well hung. Jack, on the other hand… well, he was a big guy in all other respects -- I decided he must have a membership in a gym somewhere to have developed a big, sweaty build like that.
I heard a noise and looked up to see that Angela had bumped her head on the ceiling. She looked up then turned briefly toward me to see if I had been watching. I saw the TV wobble briefly on its stand as she sat herself before them and spread her legs invitingly, one on either side of the two. From here, her vagina seemed absolutely huge and seemed to be taking on a life of its own as she expanded. Alex was the one that Angela elected to take a closer look. He was obviously a bit perplexed about just how to address the quivering mass before him. It was then when the lips of her vagina just opened by themselves and literally reached out to engulf his head, and I dropped my can of beer. "This can"t be happening!" I remember saying to myself as I watched. I knew she had a lot of control over herself, but this… He was simply being sucked headfirst into her. In no time at all, just his legs remained visible.
Meanwhile, Jack hadn't had to lift a muscle -- Angela had done that for him, raising him up between her now enormous breasts where he sat wondering which one he wanted to address first. But he didn't have to make the decision at all. Angela had just engulfed him in her flesh so that he looked for all the work like a hotdog trapped between two fleshy buns. Then I saw her tongue come out and start to lick his head, something like she had done once for me -- only in my case it was something she had found between my legs.
But suddenly, my eyes returned to Alex. He seemed to be sliding out now, all on his own! Then, just about when he would have fallen out, her vaginal lips just sort of reached out and sucked him right back in again, complete with very erotic sound effects. He had become a sort of unattended human dildo for her. He didn't seem to mind what was happening as far as I could see. There seemed to be an "air cycle" to the thing where she could open really wide for a second to give him a chance to breath. Now I knew what Angela had meant when she said it was different -- and I had just decided I wanted to try that, too. I'll be damned!
Angela now had Jack almost entirely inside her mouth. With a sinking feeling, I could see just what the problem was -- he was too big for her -- and that could only lead to one possible result. Then I saw her using her fingers to rudely force Jack's wriggling body all the way inside her mouth. There was a sickening crunching sound as she starting chewing, slowly at first, then more forcefully. Finally I saw her swallow then turn and look toward my hideaway with a glassy look in her eyes as she licked her lips and, spotting me watching, flashed me an enormously satisfied smile. That just struck me as grizzly! Surly Alex would faire better.
I was suddenly panicked by my desire to take that wild ride between her legs, and the thought of her forgetting who I was momentarily and then -- crunch! -- Desert time. But Alex didn't faire any better. She seemed to be feeding on her lust now as she plucked Alex from her vagina and just stuffed him into her mouth gleefully, with one of his legs still visible and began to crunch, severing his bare leg, which she then dropped into her mouth before continuing. Did I bother to say that she was staring at me the whole time she was doing this? I had a sudden attack of the chills.
Then I saw her finger summons me forward -- I hoped for the best. Then almost as soon as I pulled open the door, she reached over and picked me up, then set me before her face on her chest.
"Men are too hard to swallow," she said with the same satisfied and threatening smile on her face. She was still licking her enormous lips that definitely now had a distinctively reddish tinge to them. "You want to try me? Other lips working good now. It feels good for you and me. You see. I not eat you -- tonight." I'm sure she meant that as teasing, but it sure felt uncomfortable just then.
Then she picked me up again and brought me down near those "other" pulsing lips of hers that almost immediately grabbed me bodily and drew me inside. But she was right -- it was incredibly wonderful -- something like swimming. I was getting all covered with sticky goo, but it tasted really good, even if it smelled a little rank. I decided to I liked this a lot. After sliding a few times in and out, I concluded that this was the most unusual feeling I had ever had experienced. Angela had convinced me -- I felt really safe all of a sudden. Yes, of course -- back to the womb and all that, but no, that wasn't what I felt. Angela was sharing the one of the most intimate parts of her body with me in a way that perhaps no other human being in the world could possibly do.
Just about the time that I was becoming a little sore, I felt Angela sort of spit me out into her hand. Then she raised me back up to her face and just dropped me into her open mouth. I can't tell you how uncomfortable that felt for an instant. But she had little more in mind than to clean me off with her tongue. Then the lights came back on as she lifted me out onto her chest again.
"You taste good. Are you sure you don't want me eat you, little man?" she said showing me a toothy smile. I think she could tell that she was making me extremely uncomfortable. "Don't worry. I make joke. Women much better anyway for you and for me." Something about the whole cycle of eating males seemed to be making her a lot more aggressive in general. Maybe it was something to do with the testosterone. Who knows? I decided I didn't want to introduce Angela to many more male friends. Of course I equally had no idea how she might finish off a woman when no was watching -- a little at a time, like grapes during a soap opera? She could do all that on her own if she wanted as long as she kept away from the mailman -- I like getting the mail.
Ben showed up to collect me just before the monthly company meeting. I had heard recently that he came up with some really neat idea for the company, something that would probably make the company a lot of money. But their balance sheets weren't tallied in terms of "neats". I hoped for him that they at least let him put his name on the patent application -- maybe in the margin somewhere?
These meetings seemed to go on forever, and the "show and tell" part made it impossible to me to skip. I found myself thinking mostly of Angela while I listened to my cohorts droning on about imagined deadlines and awarding little company pens to individual employees.
Maybe we could dine in tonight. I suppose I could phone in a Pizza order -- you know: I'd like a large Pepperoni Pizza and go extra heavy on the Pizza Girls? No, that has a kind of Racer's Edge to it that bothered me (OK, I tried.) Besides, Angela generally has something else in mind.
I heard that Ben's name mentioned and saw, for once, that the company might really be going to do something nice for a change. We were even going to get a little multimedia show -- that, it turned out, was just one of those things they make for the Stock Holders meetings. Why do they bother with this sort of thing, anyway? One of the VP's was now shaking Ben's hand and trying to explain the little that he knew of Ben's hard work -- listening, even I knew more that he did about it. What Shitheads: A 100 dollar bonus. I wanted to throwup. Did they actually expect Ben to feel he got something out of the deal?
When I got home from work, Angela seemed really excited about something she had seen on television. As I listened carefully to what she was trying to explain, it became clear she was talking about one of those exercise programs. You know -- the ones with thick disco beats and women stepping on and off of little stools? Well, that was what she was apparently excited about.
"I want one," she kept repeating to me with an expression sort of like a little girl. I thought it was the most endearing thing I had seen her come up with yet.
"Exactly what do you want?" I asked, "A stool?"
"I want to find one like that, on the TV," she repeated. Then, "Big woman like that. She held her hands out to describe something I doubted could exist -- unless…
"Are you talking about a trying to find a fat girl?" That suddenly made sense.
"Um, yes," she said with glee. "This only in America. Big woman like that. Fat. I want her. Where can we find one?"
"Uh," I thought a moment, "just about everywhere, I guess." This was weird.
She took my hand and started pulling me toward the door, "We go now?"
I laughed suddenly -- it was just too comical for words. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to try to find somebody a little less…" But she cut me off.
"No, let's go. Maybe we find nice girl for you too. I like that too." She was very insistent.
It's kind of hard to sneak up on the Mall -- there was little surprise left by the time we were parked. She could see that this was a busy place, but I was sure she was completely unprepared for the Food Faire. After a few minutes standing in the main dining area, I could see that she was drooling. "Why you not bring me here before now? I like this place." I had been joking when I had said earlier that I was starving, but Angela apparently actually was. Then I thought back to the last time she had -- ah -- dined. As far as I knew there hadn't been anyone for well over a week…
She had disappeared from my sight for only a few minutes. Angela's first choice turned out to be a young woman in her early twenties, monumentally buxom -- we're talking big buxom here -- trailing an enormous, perfectly shaped round bottom. I still couldn't get over how easily it was for her to pick people up, just like that. She introduced herself as Heather, and she was definitely a candidate for Angela's TV show. She was licking a colossal ice cream cone, and something about the way she was doing that changed my mind about the choice. I had to laugh. Angela seemed puzzled, then leaned over and whispered, "She just right." I suddenly had images of the three bears.
Then she left again, this time, true to her word, in about five minutes with a late teens girl named Vicki, dressed in shorts and a halter-top. There was a small flower tattooed just to the left of her belly button. She looked ravishing. Vicki was sort of looking me over like a side of beef -- then she looked up at me and something seemed to click, she leaned up and -- honest -- whispered in my ear, "You want to get lucky tonight?" I felt her firm breast pressing against my arm.
Angela did have impeccable taste, I decided. As we were all got into the car to go home I was genuinely afraid the springs in the car would break.
Angela unexpectedly left the room, returning moments later with… my can of Whipped Creme. And here I thought you ate desert at the end of the meal. But then she handed it to me with a twinkle in her eyes. This was her show tonight -- she had some kind of script playing in her head.
Heather didn't seem at all perturbed as Vicki and I almost immediately attacked each other. But the way Heather was looking at my cock, I wasn't sure I wanted to let near her mouth -- I was afraid I might not get it back. I watched her crunching what remained of the sugar cone all the while staring directly my erection.
Vicki knew what she wanted. No hesitation there. She had produced that flagship and she was now determined to sail it. She stood straddling me and pressed her groin against my face briefly, undulating as I worked my tongue into her. Then I watched her little tattoo slide past my face as she settled slowly over me and began working my straining penis comfortably inside her. Vicki was definitely not in a hurry, now. I was marveling at her perfect little breasts when I remembered about that can Angela had set out for me. But Heather had already thought of that, too, as I watched Vicki squirm as a big glop of whipping landed on one of those breasts, followed almost immediately by Heather's open mouth. I watched as she hungrily lapped up the sweet creme, then just suck Vicki's entire little breast completely inside her mouth. Then Vicki surprised me by wresting the can from Heather and spraying most of the rest of the can's contents all over Heather's huge chest.
I swear Angela has some kind of invisibility shield. I didn't even notice that she had grown until I glanced up and found her huge face staring down at us. She had her legs stretched way back into our bedroom, and had herself propped up on her elbows like a voyeur, watching Vicki and I, and now, especially Heather. Vicki didn't get a chance to follow up with her handiwork currently dripping from Heather's breasts all over my shoulders -- Angela did that for her. Nor did she interrupt her slow, impassioned pumping over me when Angela's open mouth descended over Heather down to her waist. When she raised back up, Heather was clean as a whistle, but completely drenched in Angela's saliva. Vicki stared up briefly at Angela then back at Heather, but I exploded just then bringing a smile of satisfaction to my face -- and of conquest to Vicki's face. I swore that some kind of counter had just ticked over in her head. And something now told me that act two was just about to unfold.
Angela's face now proclaimed she wanted Heather -- all of her -- for herself. As a huge drop of her saliva landed on Vicki's head, I realized with a sinking feeling that this was going to become another one of those grizzly scenes, something like with Jack, only, considering Heather's, ah, bulk, I knew it could only be worse.
And it looked like we were going to get a ring side seat for the festivities as Angela rolled over onto her back and I heard something break in the bedroom. I felt like part of her dollhouse set as she hoisted both me and Vicki onto her stomach. I guess she wanted something to watch while she… Heather plopped down next to us just then. Suddenly I heard something scraping on the floor below and saw that Angela had moved our couch so as to form a sort of pillow for her head. Vicki watched all this with seemingly little interest as her hand slowly stroked me, trying to coax a fresh life into me. But when she found that wasn't working yet, I saw an expression of impatience on her face as she then glanced over at Heather, considering her options.
I could see now what Angela was going to do. Vicki seemed annoyed when Angela picked up Heather suddenly. But I surprised myself as I began to spring back to life and Vicki decided to play it safe by lowering her mouth over me. Of course, that was more or less what Angela was now doing with Heather. I watched that enormous tongue sliding all over Heather's ample body as Angela prepared her for whatever she had in mind. Vicki cut off my view for an instant as she began to rotate herself around -- my member still in her mouth -- and nestle her mons just over my mouth.
It was then that I heard what sounded for all the world like someone eating a peach. Doing my best to temporarily lift Vicki's hips up so I could see what the hell Angela was doing, the scene I found only made me think of my eating grapes metaphor. Vicki wasn't having any of this though, and forced her vaginal lips firmly back against my mouth. It smelled like me but it also smelled richly of her. I flicked my tongue and decided to continue. Then another -- much more plentiful -- sucking sound arrived from Angela's mouth. A buttock, perhaps. I didn't want to watch what she was doing. I resolved just then to never, ever piss her off… I thought then about Vicki's fate -- maybe Angela would be satiated when she… finished… with Heather. Something told me that wouldn't be the case.
I was trying to block out the sounds of the loud crunching now filling the room by forcing my ears against Vicki's firm thighs, but that wasn't working very well. And there was a new sound now, coming from beneath us this time. I could tell that Vicki was enjoying what I was doing, though. The way she was starting to shake now signaled that she was near her first really big orgasm of the evening. I hoped for her suddenly that she got to enjoy it, since the room was no longer echoing with Angela's banquet.
I could feel Angela moving now. Definitely. I wandered what was next on her agenda. I didn't have to wait long to find out. Vicki pulled herself off me just then, or rather Angela did it for her. And there was a look on Angela's face that scared me -- I'd never seen her look so… hungry. Angela had Vicki perched over her mouth, ignoring me completely. I got up and hurried over to try to slow her down. I didn't want her to inflict the same treatment on Vicki that she had just given Heather. But apparently, she didn't have that in mind, either -- I hoped.
Looking down slowly at me, Angela's deep voice came alive, "Umm, she was very good for me," referring to Heather I reasoned. I felt her body moving again, and suddenly, a rather loud burp erupted from her mouth -- which seemed to please her greatly. Vicki looked clearly nervous staring down past Angela's red-stained lips at her beautiful white teeth. I had to stop this.
"Angela, let's slow down," I pleaded then.
Angela looked a bit puzzled, but glanced up at Vicki and then set her down next to me between her breasts. "OK, but still hungry." She was waiting.
"I bet Vicki would feel really good down between your legs." I suggested hopefully.
"No, I want Vicki now. You want to watch? Help, maybe?" she asked. She seemed to be cooling down a bit.
I don't know why all this surprised me. We had gone out expressly to find two women for her to have tonight. It's just that the reality of it was always different that the fantasy.
Vicki seemed fascinated by Angela's mouth just now. I couldn't tell any more whether Vicki was doing that on her own, or whether Angela had some way to force her to respond like that. But it suddenly didn't seem all that bad to me. Maybe Angela was doing the same thing to me. Either way, I wanted Vicki to find at least one more, satisfying orgasm before Angela…
"No chewing," I stated.
"OK. She not too big." Angela agreed as she started to smile again.
When I looked over to Vicki, I saw that she had climbed up onto one of Angela's breasts where she sat straddling the nipple, rocking her groin gently back and forth. Angela carefully mounded up the flesh in her palm lifting Vicki up and making it easier for Angela to reach her with her tongue. Vicki really lit up then and started rubbing her breasts erotically over the warm, slippery surface. Then she slowly slid her crotch over Angela's tongue -- I knew from before the experience was exquisite. It must have a hundred times better for her, though, as she began shivering uncontrollably shortly thereafter as she climaxed explosively. It was then that Angela slowly drew her into her mouth, and swallowed her.
I felt suddenly like some kind of Aztecian priest. But I still really loved Angela, in spite of all this, but…
Something had been troubling me for several days now. I hadn't been able to put my finger on exactly what it was until today. This morning just after I dropped Angela off at her school, I remembered that I had forgotten my wallet in my other pants. No, that wasn't what was bothering me, although I sure didn't want to get pulled over without a copy of my license after all that recent new legislation. I was pretty sure now that someone had been casing our house. There really wasn't much of any value in there any more, after that break-in a few years ago pretty much wiped me out -- one of my ex-wife's lovers I think, just after my divorce, but I could certainly never prove it.
It was that when I returned to pick up my license, I'm sure I saw someone standing down the street watching me. Not unusual in our neighborhood to be sure, but something about the way he looked sent a chill up my spine.
I also thought about my absolutely reckless fascination with Angela's passions, knowing all the time that something as blatant as this had to have an end point. You can't just keep abducting people and swallowing them without someone catching on, sooner or later. Not possible -- the logical side of me knew that very well. But Angela -- it was so easy for her -- never a question from anybody around, never a regard -- nothing. And, even though I knew perfectly well that what she was doing was absolutely monstrous -- and quite gruesome at times, I was unable to give her up, such was my infatuation for her. All along, for example, I had been puzzling over what to do with my friend Susan's car now sitting in my garage -- you can't just put up a sign and sell something like that.
As soon as I found my wallet, I looked around quickly to see if anything looked disturbed. No, nothing broken that we hadn't done ourselves recently. Nothing looked missing, either. Staring down at my wallet, it reminded me of something else -- it was still there, on top of the medicine chest, just where I had left it that first day. Still full of bills and the credit cards of that unknown woman Angela had seduced. The full horror of what was going on struck me broadside. Why couldn't she have turned out to be just a normal nymphomaniac or something?
I decided suddenly that I had to get out of there.
When I got to work, Ben had left a draft copy of the new project he was working on with a note asking me to review it. As I hefted the half-inch or so of paper, I knew already I wasn't going to do it justice, not in my current state of mind.
I just sat there for the longest while, staring at the photo of Angela, wondering what to do. Few of us ever have these kinds of decisions to make. I longer I stared at her pretty face, I lower I felt. I looked down and saw that the title page of Ben's report was wet with my tears. It could not go on like this.
Wiping my sleeve over the report, I opened it to the first page and tried to concentrate. It did get me through the rest of the day, and I actually think I ended up improving it. By the end of the day I was almost feeling my old self again -- I think the shrinks call that denial.
When I picked up Angela from the school she was unusually quiet. I had decided to return to our house anyway, despite my earlier misgivings -- now convinced I had been imagining it all.
But something must have happened there at school to put her in this mood. So of course I asked her, "Is everything alright, Angela?"
She turned to me with tears in her eyes and tried very hard to say what was troubling her but then turned and just stared out the window at the passing scenery. I took that to be a no and decided to wait until we got back to the house.
But I had been feeling something like this all day, too -- was it her?
I wanted her to be happy -- she had been a remarkably cheerful person all during the brief time I had known her. Heaven knows I had indulged her. But now, something was different. Finally, she produced the letter. It looked like she must have been worrying it for several days before deciding to open it.
I stared at it and had to ask her, "I can't read any of this -- what does it mean?" I could however see that the stamp had originated in Thailand.
Her English almost drifted back to those early days as she said simply, "They find me. I think they come for me."
Frowning at her I asked, "Who are they? Your family?"
As her face turned to me, tears were streaming down her face. "No, old boss."
I didn't know much at all about her life before. She had point blank refused to discuss any of that with me. Now it looked like something or somebody from her past was coming back to haunt us. I thought then of that man in the street this morning and cringed.
I tried to be as gentle as I could, but this sounded worse that serious to me. "Who is this person?"
"There are many. They run my village and make money with me. I get nothing but stupid clients. My family sold me to them forever. They make school for me." At least her English was getting a little better.
"Do you know what a prostitute is, Angela? Someone who sells her sex for money? Is that what you were?"
"No, I not sell myself. They do. I get nothing."
I felt a lump in my throat. Looking at her then, I said as tenderly as I could, "You got me."
Turning to me, she suddenly stood up and started hugging me as she rocked back and forth, crying on my shoulder. I held her like that for a long time until she finally looked up and stared deeply into my eyes, then kissed me in the most passionate and loving way she ever had. "I am so ashamed for you to know this about me. I don't want to eat any more dirty, old people for them." I held her tight and tried to calm her fears. There was no way in hell that anything like this was going to make me love her any less, and I told her so more than once. Then we went into the bedroom where we just lay holding each other until she finally fell asleep with her head on my chest.
I spent a long time trying to understand what she had told me. It sounded like this Black Hand society might have been using Angela as some kind of ultimate enforcer. "Pay up or you're history" kind of thing. But I couldn't imagine how they could have contained her, knowing what I now know about her. Family threats perhaps? But she had said... I suppose she'll volunteer the rest of it someday although I'm not sure I really want to learn any more of the story.
Around six o'clock, she woke up and seemed to be feeling a little better, though she seemed to be showing some of the signs that I had finally associated with her needing food. Let's see, there was that waitress she seemed to like at that Italian place we were at a few weeks ago... No.
"I'm starved," I announced suddenly as I stretched. "Let's go grab a bite to eat." She wiped the sleep from her eyes and turned to me with the most peaceful, radiant smile I could imagine.
When we returned later -- alone -- I finally got her to tell me more of the story. I had to get her to repeat herself many times to understand and clarify what her English lacked, but she willing disclosed what proved to be the most monstrous thing I had ever heard.
This -- Mafia -- group had virtually enslaved Angela into a very exclusive sort of sex show for very, very rich paying clients. Japanese, American, British, you name it, businessmen (mostly) had paid huge sums of money to... watch Angela... eating people. She claimed that videotape of one her performances had once sold for well over a quarter million dollars. It was obvious that the hold they kept on her was with the people they supplied her with to keep her alive. The group had also found her to be a very useful for controlling those around them: bad debts, uncooperative hookers...
But even I couldn't believe anyone would be willing to pay that amount of money. Reluctantly, she recounted how apparently one of her captures had come up with the idea of drugging her that night, discovering a substance that effectively nullified Angela's ability to control peoples' emotions and to limit the pain felt within her victims. It was that night, too, that she had finally escaped from them.
It was also easy to see now why she was so certain they would come looking for her -- she represented a lot of time and money to them. I was already starting to make plans in my mind to get us out of this area, but there was much left to do.
As I looked at my watch, I saw that I was already late. "Shit!" I uttered as I hurriedly located my car keys and headed out the door, slamming it forcibly behind me and suddenly wishing I hadn't done that.
I open the car door and climbed in as I cursed the miserable weather again. But when I tried to start the engine, nothing happened. Nothing at all. "This can't be happening! Come on!" I tried it again. Nothing. "Shit!" I said as I reopened the car door and flipped the hood release. "Not now!" I said loud enough for the neighbors to hear me. As I got in front of the car and looked in side, I was at first puzzled, then mystified by what I saw. It looked like several of the ignition wires had been severed. One of the rubber hoses leading to the radiator was in two pieces and some of the antifreeze-laden water was slowly drizzling out. I just stood in the blistering heat staring with my jaw agape.
Just then I heard a footstep behind me -- probably one of my neighbors coming over to try to calm me down.
"You have something of mine."
Turning suddenly, I froze. A man holding a really nasty looking revolver -- now pointed directly at me -- stood smiling at me. He could have been Angela's brother, but I knew he wasn't.
"How.." I stumbled.
"... I find you?" he completed. "Easy -- You stupid. She even more stupid." Then he waved the barrel of the gun toward the front door. "Let's go now."
He followed me at a safe distance as I walked back towards the door, glancing back nervously over my shoulder. Luckily, the door wasn't locked -- I had no idea what would have happened just then if I had needed to tell him that I couldn't open it. As I pushed it open, I felt something hard pressing against my back and then I was rudely shoved through where I landed sprawling on my living room floor. There was blinding pain suddenly as his foot kicked me in the side and I doubled up in self-defense, tears welling up in my eyes.
He stood over me, now looking around. I saw his nose wriggle, then he stated, "I smell her. She live here. No mistake." The revolver now pointed at my face. "Where is she?"
There was no point in being coy with this guy, but I tried anyway. "Angela's at a school. I was just going to go pick her up."
"Angela..? Ah, I see," he was smiling again. Then he said something to himself in a language that I took to be Thai. "She change name. Try to hide." He looked around the room for a second as if trying to think. Then apparently concluded he still needed me alive.
"Where? You take me there." Then he started waving his pistol in my face again, and I slowly and painfully climbed back up to my feet. "You drive." He threw his rental car's keys at me.
Already, I was desperately trying to figure out how I could get to Angela before he did. I did have one minor advantage -- I was the only one who knew how to find her right now. Why don't rental companies rent stick shifts, anyway?
That's when I heard the crash. She had heard him after all!
My assailant jerked his head around and both his and my jaws dropped. Angela had indeed heard him from the bathroom during our brief discussion. My roof just wasn't there any more. In its place stood a towering naked woman -- Angela.
In all the time I had known her, I had never seen Angela angry. But now she was absolutely enraged -- and something about that rage had done something truly remarkable: she now towered well over fifty feet up into the air, and staring down at the one person in all the world she hated the most.
I screwed up my courage suddenly and jumped. Just in time, too, as an enormous foot completely flattened the tinny little car we had been setting in. But the thug had gotten out just in time, too.
But how can mere mortal man run away from a ten story tall angry giantess, now really? My neighbors now standing on their lawns watching must have thought the same thing.
He didn't stand a chance. But he tried, though, all the time firing the few rounds he had before she got to him. Then it was over very quickly -- Yes, clothes, shoes and all in one very loud gulp. The neighbors stood aghast for several minutes then gradually erupted into a round of applause for her. I did hear one cat call, too.
Or, at least I remember it that way -- the applause part doesn't seem very plausible to me anymore, but I am sure about that hoot.
We didn't stay around long. As soon as Angela was back down to a size that would let her get into Susan's old car, we left, abandoning it as soon as we had a chance. During the two days of traveling I had worked through what I thought would be a workable way to keep Angela properly nourished without, well... Anyway, she agreed to try the experiment to see if it would work. It did mean that we were going to have to take up farming or find a rich benefactor somewhere -- two or three live pigs a month would be expensive. "Hey, it might be kinda erotic in its own way," I kept telling myself.
Well, perhaps with a quick one now and then on the side. As we turned north toward Milwaukee, I was slowly allowing myself to start constructing my own fantasies.
Me, I was looking forward to some meatballs. Swedish meatballs.